Are you done doing what you were doing?

 Are you done doing what you were doing?

No, I am not done.

There are songs to hear and words to write and figure out what the next step is.

And in working through that dilemma, I did a small dive into the past, ten, twenty years past. Of moments that I captured in a space that I forgot about. 

Just like the wild wind blows

nope, it's "just like the white-winged dove"

Whatever, Stevie. Oh, here's a song.

I found God
on the corner of First and Amistad
where the west
was all but won
all alone
smoking his last cigarette
he says, where you've been
he says, ask anything
where were you
when everything was falling apart
where all my days 
were spent by a telephone 
that never rang
all I needed was a call 
that never came
from the corner of First and Amistad 

Chorus:
lost and insecure
you found me, you found me
lying on the floor
surrounded, surrounded
why'd you have to wait
where were you, where were you
just a little late
you found me, you found me 

In the end
everyone ends up alone
losing her
the only one who's ever known
who I am, who I am not, and who I want to be

no way to know
how long she will be next to me 

Chorus:
lost and insecure
you found me, you found me
lying on the floor
surrounded, surrounded
why'd you have to wait
where were you, where were you
just a little late
you found me, you found me 

Early morning
city breaks
I've been calling
for years and years and years and years
and you never left me no messages
you never sent me no letters
you got some kind of nerve
takin' all I want 

Chorus:
lost and insecure
you found me, you found me
lying on the floor
surrounded, surrounded
why'd you have to wait
where were you, where were you
just a little late
you found me, you found me

The lyrics: I'm on vacation every single day because I love my occupation.

The reality - I'm on vacation every single day because I don't have the energy, capacity or wherewithal to even try right now.

every single day

there is a feeling

that this never ends

and it never began

we just landed

on this page

somewhere in the middle

try as I might

I cannot breathe

too deep

or laugh

from my belly

and the air is cold

on my skin

in the space

between you and me

are the ghosts

of songs and whispers

and lies

pushed down deep

with a swig of whiskey

every other day

could be just like

the vacations

we never took

and the days the sun set 

without our eyes

or our care

We never know

the beginning

or the end

we only have

years at a time

telling the story

of our rhymes

Where were you?

Indeed.

Where was I?

We'll never know

all the places

that could have been

as time passed by

Now, I'm done.